


sugar sentimentality

by mozaikmage



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Academy phase, COUGHS SADLY, I tagged everyone with more than one line of dialogue, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sickfic, Soup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22039762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozaikmage/pseuds/mozaikmage
Summary: Claude wakes up one Saturday morning with a sore throat and an inability to breathe out his nose.“Ugh.”
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 17
Kudos: 126





	sugar sentimentality

**Author's Note:**

> I have been suffering for five days and decided to make my debut in the fe3h fandom by making claude suffer as well. hello  
> title from [sick sick sick](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNKgqg3FISw) by pinocchio-p because I thought that would be funny  
> thank u suyang for betaing I owe u my life

Claude wakes up one Saturday morning with a sore throat and an inability to breathe out his nose. “Ugh.”

With an immense show of willpower, he drags himself to the infirmary. The fact that the infirmary is on the second floor of the main monastery building while Claude’s room is on the second floor of the dormitory is terrible planning, Claude thinks. The fact that it’s cold and drizzling outside does not help matters. 

Raphael sees him sniffling across the lawn in front of the dorms. “Oh hey Claude! Good morning! Do you need help?”

“I’m fine,” Claude coughs. “Just gonna stop by the infirmary for a bit. Don’t worry about me. Go eat breakfast or whatever it is you were gonna do.”

Raphael stops in front of Claude, arms crossed and head tilted in an expression of deep consideration. “Are you sure? Because you look like you need some help.”

“I’m fine,” Claude repeats, and then just to show how fine he is, trips over nothing and almost falls into the mud. 

Raphael grabs his cape just in time, and then picks up Claude in both arms. “Okay, buddy. Let’s get you to Manuela.”

Claude is too tired and dizzy to protest, so he just mumbles a weak “thank you” and lets Raphael carry him through the main building and up the stairs to the second floor in front of pretty much everyone in the monastery. He can be embarrassed about it later.

Manuela is actually in the infirmary for once, organizing a row of poultices and medicines on a shelf. “How can I help you?” she asks, without turning around.

Raphael drops Claude on the empty bed with a dull thud.

“Thanks,” Claude says. And then, to Manuela, “I have a bit of a cold. Not a big deal. Just a cough, sore throat, stuffy nose, you know, the usual.”

Manuela spins around to face Claude, beaming. “You came to the right place!”

After checking to see if Claude has a fever, Manuela hands him an armful of jars, bottles and tubes. “Take a spoonful of this now, one of these when you eat, drink this every three hours...”

Claude stares at the medicine. “I thought you would like... cast a healing spell on me or something...”

“Magical healing and medicine are very different things,” Manuela says, in a tone implying she’d given a lecture on this subject that Claude had failed to pay attention to. “Magical healing closes wounds and boosts your vitality! Colds are colds.”

“Colds are colds,” Claude echoes.

Manuela pours him half a glass of something dense and green like pond scum. “Professor, are you sure I need all of this? I’m not dying.”

“Not yet you’re not!” Manuela smiles. “Have you ever heard the saying, ‘a cold can be cured in seven days with medicine and a week without?’”

“I have not heard that before. Doesn’t that mean there’s no point to me taking—”

“Just drink the elixir, Claude.” Manuela interrupts him, continuing to smile.

He drinks the elixir. It tastes exactly how he’d imagine pond scum tasting. His throat feels slimy, but it does seem to hurt slightly less now.

“Thank you, Professor Manuela,” Claude says.

She waves him off. “Anything for my students, of course! If you’re still feeling poorly on Monday, come back and I’ll let you skip class for the day. Get some healing soup from the dining hall, and then rest, got it?” 

“Will do, professor!” Raphael booms before Claude can respond. Claude nods sheepishly.

“Please don’t carry me this time,” Claude says, once they reach the stairwell. “I can walk downstairs by myself. There’s a handrail.” 

“If you say so,” Raphael agrees, looking unconvinced but willing to humor Claude for now.

“Claude?” says a voice behind them. 

Claude turns around too fast. His body retaliates with a pang of dizziness, but he leans against the wall casually enough. He smirks at Dimitri, who is coming out of the library with a stack of books and an expression of polite concern. 

“Your Royalness.” Claude waves with the hand that isn’t holding five different glass bottles. On the list of people Claude would least like to interact with while under the weather, Dimitri was definitely in the top five.

“Hey, Dimitri!” Raphael exclaims, clapping Dimitri on the shoulder. Dimitri survives the experience.

“Good morning, Raphael. Are you alright, Claude?”

“Perfectly fine!” Claude says, at the same moment as Raphael says “Claude has a cold.”

Claude glares at Raphael and then flashes a grin at Dimitri. “It’s not a big deal, really. I’ll be better by tomorrow.”

Dimitri looks at the medicine Claude is carrying and then up at Claude’s face. Which is always a little disconcerting, for Claude, to have someone like Dimitri earnestly make eye contact with him, like he’s seeing past the polite facade to who Claude really is. But being sick makes it hit harder, and Claude coughs to have a reason to look away.

This has the unintended effect of making Dimitri look even more concerned. “Can I... carry something for you? Do you need help?”

“Thank you, Dima, but I can take it from here,” Claude says in an attempt at being cheerful.

Raphael shakes his head and mouths something Claude doesn’t catch, but Dimitri frowns.

“I’ll bring you some tea to your room later,” Dimitri says firmly, and reaches out like he wants to touch Claude for a moment before reconsidering. “...I hope you get well soon.”

Claude’s face feels warm. Maybe he does have a fever after all. “Thank you,” he says again, and absolutely does not trip on his way down the stairs.

Putting the infirmary on the second floor was a terrible decision.

Raphael accompanies Claude to the dining hall, where he abandons Claude in favor of finally eating his much-delayed most important meal of the day. Which is fair. Claude knows how important food is to Raphael, and it was nice of him to help Claude out at all. 

Claude takes his mug of Hearty Fish and Bean Soup and shuffles back to his room, fully intending to stay there until the end of time. Except he needs to talk to Teach about this month’s mission, and return some books to the library, and see if Hilda actually did her chores today instead of foisting them off on someone else... Okay, he’ll stay in his room for an hour or two, he’ll probably be mostly recovered by then, right?

He wakes up to someone timidly knocking on the door. “Uh, come in,” he says around a yawn, sitting up. What time was it? 

Marianne opens the door a crack, and peers in. “Um... Raphael told me you were sick?” 

“Oh, yeah. It’s just a cold, though, nothing to worry about.”

“I see... Um...”

Claude waits for Marianne to finish hesitating. She very slowly reaches a hand forward, pulling the door shut so only her arm is visible. “I brought you some herbs I use when I get sick... It probably won’t help very much but... just in case...”

“Thank you, Marianne. That’s very thoughtful of you.” Claude smiles at her. 

“It’s nothing! Don’t mention it!” Marianne drops the sachet of herbs on the floor and slams the door shut. Claude will probably never understand that girl.

He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with the herbs (Eat them? Inhale them? Put them under his pillow?) but Marianne’s already gone. So Claude shrugs and takes some of the medicine Manuela gave him earlier. It doesn’t seem to help much, but at least it feels like he’s doing something.

There’s another knock on the door, this one more businesslike. “Claude,” says Professor Byleth.

“Teach! Come in! I was going to look for you, but I’m not feeling so great today.”

“I know,” says Byleth. “Don’t worry about it. You need to rest.”

They give Claude a puzzle game, which he supposes is meant to keep him entertained while he’s stuck in his room and his head hurts too much to read. “Wow, thanks so much!”

“Someone volunteered to bring you dinner later,” Byleth says as they leave, a hint of a smile on their face.

Within the next hour, Lorenz comes by with tea and a long lecture on why Claude shouldn’t have practiced flying in the rain two days ago; Hilda with freshly-laundered handkerchiefs (why does she have so many, anyway?); Leonie with a home remedy that will supposedly destroy all diseases with one drop (it smells very strongly of mint and onions, and Claude is not brave enough to try it); Lysithea with cake (“don’t say anything, just take it,” she says, before running out the door again); and Ignatz with an offer to return Claude’s library books for him while the library’s open.

It’s kind of overwhelming, how much everyone cares. He’s not sure he wanted everyone to see him like this, but there’s not much he can do about it now, is there.

Claude pulls his blankets up to his chin and considers taking another nap for the sheer novelty of it. Find out what Linhardt likes so much about the process. He still can’t really breathe through his nose, though, and his throat still feels scratchy and uncomfortable.

There is one last knock on the door, uncertain at first, and then more resolute. “Claude? It’s Dimitri. I brought you something to eat, if you’re hungry.”

“Come in,” Claude says automatically. 

Dimitri does, gently setting a tray containing yet another bowl of soup and a silver teapot on Claude’s desk. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Claude admits. “Thank you.”

“It’s mint, ginger and raspberry tea,” Dimitri says, picking up the teapot and setting it on Claude’s bedside table. “Supposed to be good for the... well, good for you, is the point.”

Claude smiles in spite of himself. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble for me, your Royalness. I’m not even in your house.”

“So what?” Dimitri snaps, angrier than Claude would’ve expected. “You’re my friend, and friends take care of each other, right?”

“We’re friends?” Claude blurts out. He honestly thought Dimitri considered him a friendly rival at best, a nuisance at worst. 

Dimitri blinks, suddenly uncertain. “I thought we were, but I guess I could have overestimated the level of carmaraderie in our acquaintanceship... Do you... not want to be friends with me?”

“No, no, I just wasn’t expecting that. Sure, yeah. We’re friends.” Claude sips the soup. 

Dimitri watches him, opening his mouth for a second like he wants to say something else before changinng his mind. He’s sitting on the edge of Claude’s bed, one hand on the blanket, and staring at Claude with a complicated expression Claude doesn’t know how to explain. 

“Is that it?” Claude prompts. 

Dimitri startles, and finally looks away, cheeks pink. “Never mind. I should go.” He stands up, and Claude can feel the cold created by Dimitri’s absence.

There’s a sudden pang in Claude’s chest, and he coughs a bit. “Right. Wouldn’t want to catch whatever I have,” he says, with an attempt at a laugh. 

Dimitri nods stiffly. He freezes at the door again, but ends up saying, “Get well soon,” in a voice that made it sound like an instruction rather than a wish.

“Will do, your Royalness,” Claude replies, giving him a mock salute.

Dimitri rolls his eyes, smiling good naturedly. “If you need anything later, I’m only two doors down,” he adds, as an afterthought.

“I’ll be fine, but I appreciate the fuss.” 

Claude winks at him. Dimitri slams the door shut. 

The tea, Claude discovers, is not too bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> *coughs sadly and blows nose very loudly, because I am Still Sick*  
> [twitter](twitter.com/mozaikmage/) [tumblr](cubistemoji.tumblr.com)  
> [ please look at my friend's art thanks ](https://twitter.com/subudymeimei/status/1195748817045540864?s=20)


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